


Healing Waters

by rcrofoot



Category: None - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/F, Short, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcrofoot/pseuds/rcrofoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys finds herself suddenly alone when her father and best friend is suddenly killed trying to avoid a drunk driver. Jacey forces her way into Rhys's life, fighting to break down her walls and save her from herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Waters

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for my first Fiction writing class in college. I personally think the ending could use a bit of work. Let me know what you think.

The leaves of the canopy filtered a green light into the surrounding forest. The ground created a symphony of noise beneath her feet. The crushing of the leaves, the swaying of the trees, and the nearby creek all creating a sound that was soothing and stimulating at the same time. It reminded her of the concerts she used to go to with her dad, Before.

This was a place of emotions and memory for her. She walked out into the forest behind her house when she needed to get away. It was far enough away from the small town she lived in that she couldn’t hear the cars driving down her street, couldn’t see the newspaper building where her mom worked, or the college where her dad used to teach music. And it was large enough that she could go camping with her friends or by herself without drawing attention to the campfire she would almost always make. It was as if coming out here made the whole world fade away, until nothing was left but Rhys and her thoughts.

She breathed in the heavy pine and wood scent. The smell of pine always soothed her and reminded her of her father, and Before.

Before high school. Before her class started partying and getting drunk. Before one of those drunk classmates caused her father to swerve off the road. Before he died. Before she started feeling empty and alone. 

Rhys’ dad had been the nature-lover of her two parents. This had been their own special place. Her mother never came out here. Her mother much preferred the downtown area in the center of town. She would try to bond with Rhys the way her father did. Her father would take her on long walks in the woods, teaching her about different plants, edible mushrooms, animal signs and how to track them, animal behavior in general. Her mother, on the other hand, wanted to walk down the streets, talking about the architecture and history of each building, the clothes they could see through the windows of all the shops, and all sorts of other things she learned from doing her job. It’s not that Rhys didn’t enjoy history or clothes or any of it, it just didn’t really inspire her the way being out in the woods did, or the way writing or playing her violin did. With her curly brown hair and green eyes, people always told her how much she looked like her mother, but in personality and character, she definitely took after her father.

As the sun began to set, she turned away from the trees and the creek, and toward her house and her room. Away from the world of raw emotions, memory, and truth, and toward a world of fake smiles, stress, and homework.

As her brick house peeked through the trees, she braced herself, fingering her father’s guitar pick around her neck and putting on the smile and chipper attitude her mother would expect. Taking the stairs two at a time, she burst into the mudroom, kicked her shoes off at the door and then bounded upstairs to her bedroom, one of the few places she actually enjoyed outside of her forested sanctuary.

The walls of her room were teal, and all of her furniture was either brown or green. The comforter that covered her bed was covered in spots of all three colors, tying it all together nicely. The color scheme was calming, and reminded her of being on a lake or at the ocean.

She stepped over the dirty laundry that was piling up on her floor, and around the notebooks that were strewn across the room to her desk chair, one of two areas that were clear of clutter. The other was her bed, and that was only because she needed to sleep somewhere. Everything else was covered in clean or dirty clothes, notebooks filled with scribbles, and lots and lots of books. 

Her room was full of books. She had a floor to ceiling bookshelf filled with them, only one shelf being dedicated to pictures and other such memories. The shelves in her closet were lined with books; the small shelf in her desk was, too. She had a few on her dresser, but that was mostly consumed by pictures, jewelry and stuffed animals. She also had a pile of books next to her bed, on her bed, on her desk, under her desk, on the floor, everywhere. For the most part, wherever she was in the room, she was an arms-length away from a book. The sole reason she bought a Kindle was because she was running out of room for the printed word.

It was mostly fantasy books, with some sci-fi and post-apocalyptic mixed in. To the average viewer, there was no order to how she arranged her books, or at least the ones that fit on the shelves. She arranged them by favorites. Her favorite books were nearest to eye-level, and the farther out they got, the farther from her favorite they became. Not the less she liked them, because if she owned a book, it was because she loved it. Just some happened to be loved a little more than others.

She had tried to organize them by author once, but it had seemed just wrong to put Tolkien at the bottom, almost out of sight, and since he and C.S. Lewis were friends when they were alive, she tried to keep the two together, and then she couldn’t very well put John Greene, Chelsea Fine, or Cormac McCarthy at the bottom either. Favoritism was the only organizational tool available to her.

Next to the bookshelf was her music corner. She had two violins, one acoustic and one electric, and two guitars, and then the keyboard in front of her window. Her room had three windows, making it seem bright and airy.

That was one of the perks of being a wealthy family and remodeling an old house; she got to design her room, put bookshelves where she wanted them, musical instruments where they should be, and windows where they were needed, although the last one had cost them a little extra money. But it had been worth it, and in her eyes, her room was perfect.

On her desk were two of her most valued possessions: her HP laptop, and her Kindle. Her laptop had all the school projects she’d ever written, all the stories she had started and hoped to one day get published, and all the pictures of the life Before. Her Kindle held so many books; she had about as many on her Kindle as she did in her room.

There was also a picture of Rhys and her dad with their instruments in hand. Her mother had taken the picture, and it showed the two of them grinning like idiots after the first concert they ever played together, she with her violin, and he with his trumpet.

She grabbed her laptop and flopped on her bed, starting on the paper due Monday. Even though she would usually wait till the night before, she loved 1984, and was a little excited to write this paper. She shook her head at her own geekiness, wondering when, and if, she would ever get a life.

 

Rhys bolted upright in her bed, her palms sweaty and shaking, her emotions spiraling out of control. For another couple seconds, she grasped an imagined steering wheel and slammed imagined pedals until her sleep-addled brain finally caught up with reality, and she realized it had been a dream.

Her laptop lit up the room. Rhys glanced at her alarm clock. Three in the morning. She had gotten carried away by what she had been writing, and must have fallen asleep. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Despite the early hour and her own exhaustion, Rhys doubted she would be able to get back to sleep. She got up, trying to shake off what remained of the nightmare, and got up to take a shower, hoping the water would help her wake up and leave the phantom images behind her.

 

Rhys snuck into class as quietly as she could. She had just come from orchestra, or, rather, the bathroom near the orchestra room. That was the one class that always made her emotional. When her fingers danced up and down her violin, she could almost imagine it was her father playing the trumpet beside her, and not some geeky kid with serious allergy problems. Some days were worse than others, and this one had been particularly bad. She had had that dream about her father last night, and, despite a cold shower and a finished 1984 paper, it was still too close for her to shake off. Add to that the emotion of playing the violin he got her without him, and she spent the last ten minutes of class crying in the girl’s bathroom in the music wing.

So she now tried to make herself invisible as she crept into English class, hoping she had gotten the tear stains off her cheeks and her eyes weren’t noticeably red and puffy. She wiped at her eyes one more time just to make sure, and a small, stick thin girl giggling with her friends gave her a look as she sat in front of Rhys.

The girl turned around as Miss Hooper stepped into the room, dropping her folder on the desk and picking up a piece of chalk.

“Are you okay?” Giggles whispered. Rhys nodded, resisting the urge to wipe her eyes again.

Giggles pursed her lips. “Are you okay?” Rhys asked, wondering why she was still looking at her.

“Yeah, I just… I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but hasn’t it been a few months since … you know?” Giggles asked, fidgeting with her pencil and not really looking at Rhys.

Rhys worked her jaw, not entirely sure how to answer her. She could feel her emotions stirring up again. The girl next to her must have been paying more attention than Rhys thought, and came to her rescue.

“Yeah, it happened three months ago. What’s your point?” The girl said.

“Nothing, just… shouldn’t you be over it by now? I mean, it seems like a few months is enough time to deal with it.”

Rhys opened her mouth to speak, but again the girl next to her beat her to it. “Have you ever lost a parent, or anyone for that matter? No? Well then how the hell did you become an expert on ‘getting over it’? No one wants to hear your advice on a topic you know nothing about.”

Rhys’s jaw almost hit her desk. Giggles looked between the two of them, working her jaw, not really sure who to address, before finally turning back around.

Rhys looked over at the girl next to her. “Thanks… ?”

“Jacey,” the girl finished for her. “Jacey Tyler.”

 

Rhys was sitting at her table, staring at the melting snow banks outside and waiting for her friend Heather to buy her lunch and come join her. She jumped at the loud thud as Jacey Tyler dropped her lunch bag right next to her.

“Um, can I help you?” Rhys asked.

“Yeah, you can stop staring at me like I grew an extra head,” Jacey responded with a flick of her silky blond ponytail.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve never sat here before,” Rhys did her best to keep her tone even.

“There are a lot of places I’ve never sat before. Doesn’t mean I can’t start.”

“So, have you set up a rotation, picking a new seat every day?”

“No, I thought I’d sit here for a little while, see if the angle of the sun and possible food fight trajectory are any better. We all know there’s gonna be one pretty soon.”

“And the whole point of me sitting here had been to avoid getting hit by food,” Rhys responded sarcastically, a little unsure of how serious Jacey had been about food fights.

“That’s too bad. You’ve never experienced life until you get pegged in the face by someone’s half-eaten applesauce.”

“Look-“

“If someone throws pudding at you, then you must have done something really bad. No one would waste perfectly good pudding unless you had really pissed them off.”

“Have you-“

“Of course, they couldn’t really throw any vegetables or anything like that without getting in trouble. Some of the food they make here could probably cause some real damage. I guess the only real options are applesauce, mashed potatoes, and pudding.”

“Okaaay…” Rhys tried again, her brain trying to keep up with this girl’s constant chatter. “Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you sticking up for me earlier, but I don’t see that as any reason for us to get all buddy-buddy.” She knew she sounded rude, but Jacey’s rapid-fire commentary on lunch had kind of put her off.

“Then you see wrong,” Jacey stated matter-of-factly. She rolled her eyes at Rhys’s surprised stare. “Was anyone going to sit here?”

“Well Heather-“ Rhys tried not to wince as Heather’s tray banged the table on her left.

“Heather can sit on the other side. See, problem solved!” Jacey turned to Rhys’s friend. “What’s up, Heather?”

“Not much, really. Just waiting for summer. It seems like we’ve been cooped up in school for longer than should be humanely allowed. How ‘bout you?”

“Same really. I ordered a new bathing suit the other day that I can’t wait to actually wear out of the house.”

“I’m gonna go back to the orchestra room and grab some new music,” Rhys interrupted, not really interested in where the conversation was going.

“Oh, come on Rhys!” Heather grabbed the back of her shirt as she turned to go. “You can’t avoid people forever. It’s not gonna kill you to make a new friend once in a while.”

Rhys turned around to look at them again, and for the first time she saw Jacey looking nervous.

“Fine,” she plumped back down in her seat. “But I don’t want to hear any talk of clothes or bathing suits or any of it. I already miss summer enough as it is.”

 

Despite Rhys’s protests, they had talked about summer plans for the rest of their lunch, making Rhys not only long for the warmer weather, but also for the days when she wouldn’t have classes to deal with anymore.

By the time she got home, Rhys was ready to be done with the day. It turned out this Jacey girl also had American History with her, and was determined to sit next to Rhys in that class, too. Jacey kept trying to get Rhys to talk to her, but there was no way Rhys was letting her ruin history, too. That is, until Mr. Salvatore made them partners for a history project. As soon as the bell rang, Rhys had booked it out of the school, desperate to escape the girl’s constant chatting.

She had the house to herself when she got home. Blaring her favorite Celtic music, she got to work on her economics homework, doing her best to make sure she would have a weekend free to do whatever she wanted.

Helen came home a little after five with a half dozen frozen pizzas, three pepperoni and extra cheese for Rhys, three pepper and low fat cheese for herself. Rhys inwardly rolled her eyes at her mom’s incessant need to “eat healthy”, even at the expense of her taste buds.

“Hey mom,” Rhys called, leaving the kitchen table to help Helen with the rest of the groceries she had brought home with her.

“Hi Honey. Sorry I’m so late. The article took a little longer than I had expected,” Helen put the pizzas in the oven Rhys had preheated earlier after her text.

“When doesn’t it?” Rhys muttered under her breath, part of her wishing she hadn’t, the other part hoping her mom would overhear.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, just that I can’t wait to dig in. I can tell you slaved for hours. Went out and killed the pig yourself.”

Helen chuckled. “You’re welcome to it next time. Pig slaying isn’t as grand as it may seem.”

“It’s well worth it to me,” Rhys said, catching a whiff of her pizza.

“So, anything fun happen at school today?” Helen asked putting away the last of the groceries and joining her daughter at the table with her own meal.

“Well, I think I might have gained another stalker to add to the multitudes of people who want to spend time with me.”

“That’s good. You could use a few more friends.”

“Why? I have plenty of friends.”

“No, you had plenty of friends,” Helen corrected, starting in on the second half of her pizza. “Ever since your father died, you’ve become so withdrawn. The only friend I see anymore is Heather.”

Helen’s casual mention of her father’s death felt like a punch in the gut to Rhys. “I just wanted to sort out some things in my own life first before I dragged other people into it. That’s all.”

“Rhys,” Helen set the pizzas down on the stove so that her daughter was her only focus. “You’re going to have to move on eventually,” Helen continued gently, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Friends would help you get over it faster…” She trailed off at the look in her daughter’s face.

Rhys felt her eyes sting as she heard those words for the second time that day. “No, Mom. I can’t deal with something while I have a constant posse of people always asking me how I’m doing and whether or not I’m okay. I’m sorry I can’t just pretend not to feel like you!” Rhys grabbed her pizza and went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

 

Helen popped her head into the room a few minutes later. “Sweetie?” Rhys looked up, plastering a fake smile on her face. “I’m scheduled to take an interview, so I’ll see you when I get home. There’s still a few pizzas in the freezer if you’re still hungry, and there should be some ice cream there, too. Hope the rest of your night gets better,” she said as she closed Rhys’s door and headed downstairs.

“Yeah right,” Rhys replied to the now-empty house. Just like that; no apology, no emotion. She was glad her mother was gone; at the moment, just her unfeeling presence made Rhys angry. But, on the other hand, she didn’t want to spend the rest of the night alone thinking of her father. With an inward groan, she pulled out the slip of paper Jacey had given her with her number on it so that they could contact each other to work on the project. It was better than spending the night alone. Hopefully.

After a quick argument with herself, Rhys punched in the number and sent the text.

Hey, its rhys. R u home? She hit send and waited for a reply.

A couple seconds later, her phone buzzed. Yeah, whats up?

I thought maybe u could come over and we could work on the project. I have pizza. And ice cream. 

A couple more seconds. Sounds like a work-friendly environment. Should i bring popcorn and a couple movies to this “work session?”

Rhys almost typed back that no, of course she shouldn’t, but then thought better of it. She really wouldn’t be able to focus on history tonight anyway.

Yeah, thats prolly a good idea. But please dont bring any chick flicks. Or horror movies.

Ill do my best, came the reply, and Rhys smiled. Despite her best efforts, she was a little excited to have Jacey over. She walked over and heated up the oven, sticking in a pizza for Jacey.

 

About half an hour later, she got another text. Im here. I think.

Ok, u can head in, it should be open.

She heard the door open and close.

“You could have come out and told me whether or not it was the right house,” Jacey said as she headed into the kitchen to find Rhys.

“And you could have knocked to make sure,” Rhys replied. “And anyway, just imagine the entertainment possibilities of seeing you accidentally stumble into someone else’s house.”

“It wouldn’t have been fun for me. Anyway, I wasn’t sure how well-stocked you were, so I brought some hot fudge, caramel, and cherries. And I brought Cheez-its, but I’m not sharing those. Cheez-its are my unhealthy addiction.”

“Wow. Pizza, Cheez-its, and ice cream sundaes. We sure know how to live it up.”

“Oh! And I brought Gladiator and Star Trek. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to watch a really good sword movie, or just look at and appreciate Chris Pine’s lovely eyes.”

“They are pretty,” Rhys conceded. “But I’m definitely feeling the blood and guts right about now.”

“Bad day, huh?”

“Little bit.”

Two movies, one pizza, half a container of ice cream, and an entire jar of hot fudge later, Rhys’s mom came home.

“Rhys! Whose bag is this?” she called from the entryway.

“It’s mine, Mrs. McCallister!” Jacey called back. “Sorry if it’s in the way!”

They heard her come down the stairs to the movie room in the basement before poking her head through the door.

“Oh, of course not. You’re fine dear. And please call me Helen.”

“Jacey,” Jacey stuck her hand out toward Rhys’s mom. “Rhys and I are partners in crime, and we were just planning our next victim.”

It took a moment before Helen burst out laughing. “You must be the new stalker. I like her, Rhys. You should keep her around.”

Jacey turned and beamed at Rhys, a slightly victorious look in her eyes.

“Yeah she’s okay, I guess. She’s my partner for a history project. She just came over to work on it.”

“I can see that. I wasn’t aware that Star Trek was part of American History.”

“Well what good is history except to plan our futures?” Jacey asked. Rhys gaped at her, unsure f she was being serious or her usual sarcastic self.

Helen looked at her hard for a moment. “I might use that in one of my articles, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead. Just don’t quote me, or Mr. Salvatore might fail me for bashing his favorite subject.”

Helen laughed. “Whatever you say, Jacey. You girls have fun. But if you don’t get that project done on time, there won’t be any more movie nights at this house.”

“We’ll just run to Jacey’s then,” Rhys grinned. “But don’t worry it’ll get done.”

“Alright. Good night ladies.”

“Good night,” they replied together.

“Congratulations,” Rhys said as they turned back to their movie. “You just aced the mom test; she approves. You have just passed into the realm of friendship.”

“God, we had one movie night together. I don’t see this as a reason for us to get all buddy-buddy on each other,” Jacey rolled her eyes.

“You see wrong, then,” Rhys laughed, and it felt good.

The smile quickly faded as Jacey asked her next question. “So… If you don’t mind me asking, why were you… upset… in English today?”

Rhys took a steadying breath. “I had a bad dream about my dad last night. About the night he died.”

“What happened to him?” Jacey’s voice was barely a whisper, and she seemed sad, like she already knew the answer. She probably already did. Nothing stayed a secret in such a small town. 

“He died,” Rhys was already struggling to breathe past the lump in her throat.”He drove off the bridge crossing the river. There was a high school party a few blocks away. Without an accident, they didn’t really have any evidence, and there were so many suspects from the party…” Rhys wiped away a tear. “They don’t know who did it. But I guess it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, he’s still gone. Knowing won’t change anything. Right?” Rhys was sobbing by now, and Jacey came up next to her, wrapping her arms around her and grabbing some tissues.

“It might make you feel better. But all in all, no, I don’t think it would change anything. He’d still be gone,” Jacey was shedding tears of her own.

 

Summer was just a few weeks away. Rhys’s whole class could almost taste freedom, and it was making them all antsy. That, however, was not a good enough reason for Rhys to be hearing Jacey’s perky voice so early on a Saturday morning.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Rhys hear Jacey’s sing-song voice a second before she felt her flop on the bed next to her. 

“God Jacey! It’s Saturday! Go the hell away!” Rhys grabbed the bear next to her, trying to hit Jacey’s face with it.

“Not gonna happen Sleeping Beauty. We’ve got a lot to do today!”

“What part of ‘it’s Saturday’ did you miss?”

“You can get a lot done on Saturdays, you know. More than most other days,” Jacey sat up, going to the Rhys’s dresser and ruffling through her clothes.

“Yeah, like catching up on sleep. Now leave me alone.”

“Nope, three weeks until summer vacation, and you have almost zero cute summer clothes. I can’t let my best friend walk around looking anything less than adorable. What would people say about me?” She pretended to faint on Rhys’s floor for extra dramatic flair.

Rhys threw the pillow at her as she sat up. “That’s it, I no longer acknowledge our friendship. You are now banished from my house.”

“Yeah, good luck with that one,” Jacey snorted as she threw clothes at Rhys. “Now get up, we’re going summer shopping. The best kind there is.”

“Not true. Food shopping is always pure joy. And if you go coat shopping, you get to rub all the soft, fluffy coats all over your face, and pet shopping is a blast, all the cute wittle faces and all the cute wittle noises they make-“

“If you keep talking like that, we really won’t be friends anymore. Now come on! I’ve been waiting to go summer shopping since it started snowing!”

Next thing she knew, she was in an outfit picked out by Jacey and they were at the mall in the next town.

“You must have been going freakin’ crazy,” Rhys said as they walked through the mall. “We got here in only, like, fifteen minutes.”

“No, you’re just lazy and fell asleep as soon as you got in my car. I was driving at a perfectly reasonable speed. It took us half an hour to get here, just like always. Next time, I’ll bring you some coffee when I come over.”

“I hate coffee.”

“Well, by the looks of things, you better learn to love it.”

“Fat chance.”

They did pretty well. Rhys got a new bathing suit at the urging of Jacey, who got two new bathing suits and some jewelry. They went to DEB and tried on prom dresses for shits and  
giggles, each one trying to outdo the other with audaciousness.

Once they got home, Rhys invited Jacey to stay the night.

“I’ll set up the tent out back. We can start a fire, maybe raid the pantry for them snacks. It’ll be our own little end of the year celebration.”

“Sounds great, just lemme go grab some stuff from my house. No alcohol, though. The last party I went to got a little too crazy,” Jacey said, no real emotion in her voice.

“Okay, I’ll try to stay away from the booze. You go grab your stuff, I’ll set up the tent and get the fire started.”

Rhys would never admit it, but she loved the pampering she got when Jacey spent the night. They would mostly just talk, but Jacey never liked to stay still for very long, so she would always do Rhys’s nails or try new styles with her hair.

She had set up the tent in the woods by the creek so they could sleep under the stars. She wanted to show Jacey what it was like back there, and she was ready for someone to help her move on, and Jacey had already started the process without her knowing.

She heard boots hitting the ground as Jacey approached. “I set up the tent in the back so we can stay back there. I brought lights back there and everything.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jacey said, “as long as I don’t wake up in a mud puddle.”

They headed back, Rhys carrying Jacey’s pillow and stuffed lion, Jacey with her bags filled with clothes and assorted make over supplies. As they reached the clearing, Rhys watched Jacey’s eyes light up.

“It’s amazing back here!” she exclaimed. “Why haven’t we stayed back here more often?”

Rhys took a moment before replying. Despite all the grief she gave her mother, Rhys sometimes found it just as difficult to be honest about her emotions as Helen did.

“This was where my dad and I used to hang out. I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone until now. It still seemed like it was a place for just the two of us. But I think I’m ready to work through this and move on, and you’re the only one who’s really been there and the only one I feel comfortable sharing all this with.” Rhys felt her words get jumbled and start stumbling over each other on their way out of her mouth.

“It’s just hard,” she continued slowly. “People say you can get closure when you know the reason and you don’t blame yourself and all this other stuff. But I don’t know who did it, and that leaves no one to blame but myself, which my head tells me is stupid, but it’s just how I feel sometimes. But you’ve helped me get through other stuff before, and I think you can do it again.” Rhys stopped, looking down on the water before she could get any sappier.

Jacey was chewing her bottom lip. “Do you really think it would help if you knew who did it?”

“I don’t know. It’s not exactly like this has ever happened to me before. I mean, logically, it shouldn’t matter, it’s not like it’ll change anything, but at the same time, I think I’d still want to know.”

Jacey was fidgeting with a piece of paper in her hands. “What do you think you’d do to whoever did it?”

“I really don’t know. I guess that would depend on who did it. And I’m kind of assuming it’s an accident, I mean, I hope I don’t know any killers.”

“Do you think you would send them to prison?”

“It would depend.”

“On what?”

“On how sorry they are. On whether or not they actually show regret. On what they’ve done to try and make it right.”

“Rhys?” Jacey’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“… What if it was me?”

Rhys snapped her head up to look at her best friend, begging her eyes to see some sort of joking in Jacey’s eyes, or just curiosity, anything. Anything would be better than what she already knew was coming.

“What are you saying?”

“It was me Rhys. It was my fault.” Jacey could already feel the tears building up. At the look on Rhys’s face, she tried to take back what she said, tried to stop talking, but it just kept pouring  
out of her; she couldn’t stop it. It was like her brain was glad to finally be rid of the worst secret she could keep from her best friend.

“I was with Kristy and both of us were shit-faced, but I said I’d drive ‘cause I didn’t think so, and even if I was, I certainly wasn’t going to call my mom when I was that drunk, and your dad saw us before we saw him and he just drove off the road, but I didn’t realize what was happening till afterwards and I felt so bad, but I just couldn’t tell you. You’d hate me and I could’ve gotten in legal trouble and everything, so I tried to make you feel better instead and tried to make you come out of that little mopey hole you were in and I’m just… I’m so sorry Rhys.”

Rhys’s brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Jacey continued, “ I was gonna tell you. I meant to tell you, but then you became my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you. I screwed up and I know it. But I don’t know how to make it right. And… I’m just so, so sorry Rhys. Please say something. Anything really.”

Rhys’s brain didn’t fully comprehend what was happening. She sat down, hard and Jacey knelt next to her. 

“No, Jacey. I think you need to go. I really just need time to process…” she waved vaguely toward Jacey, “… this.”

Jacey looked warily at the creek. “Are you sure? Let me help you Rhys. I just don’t want to leave you alo-“

Rhys cut her off. “At the moment, I really don’t think you can help. I just need time to work it out, and I can’t do it with you standing right here.”

“Okay,” Jacey had tears streaming down her face as she turned to go.

“And Rhys,” Jacey turned as she reached the edge of the clearing. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m really glad we were friends.” She set the paper she had been fidgeting with on a rock at her feet before disappearing into the trees.

Rhys sat there, unsure what she should do. On the one hand, she was angry at Jacey, more than she had ever been before. Jacey had hurt her and lied to her, and Rhys wasn’t sure whether or not she could forgive that. Not to mention the fact that her father was now dead because of her.

On the other hand, Jacey had definitely pulled Rhys out of her emotional spiral. She had lied, but it was in an effort to protect Rhys. And, despite all Rhys’s defenses, Jacey had worked her way in, and had all but forced her to start the healing process. Granted, she’d practically ruined all her work in the last ten minutes, but Rhys didn’t want to be the one to send her to jail. She was still Rhys’s best friend, and, despite everything inside her telling her she shouldn’t, Rhys still loved her.

She stuck her hand in the water, wishing it could just wash all of this away; wash her away. She understood Jacey’s concern now. It would be so easy to just step into the creek, and escape all of this, just cease to exist. But Rhys knew she wouldn’t do it. Helen still needed her, even though she infuriated Rhys to no end. And her father would never have forgiven her.

She walked over to the paper Jacey had left. She picked it up carefully. It was a picture, an amazing one really. It was a pencil drawing of the two of them with their arms around each other, both of them smiling brilliantly against a dark background. Before she knew it, Rhys found herself crying, and headed over to Jacey’s house.

She stood outside, wondering what exactly she was going to say, or even what she was feeling. She had thought about throwing the picture back in her face. A small part of her wanted to hate Jacey, wanted to make her pay. But Rhys knew she’d hate herself for it later. And she knew it’d never be something her father wanted her to do.

She fingered his guitar pick that she had hanging on a chain around her neck as she rang Jacey’s doorbell. Jacey opened the door all the way, not bothering to try to hide behind it. She stood awkwardly, her nervousness evident in every movement.

Rhys held up the picture between them. “It’s really good,” she said awkwardly, her voice raspy from crying.

“Thanks,” Jacey responded just as awkwardly. “I made it for you.”

Rhys looked hard at her. “Don’t think that this means we’re okay, ‘cause we’re not, and you’re going to have to work your ass off to get us back to okay. But you’re still my best friend, and you’re still the only one who’s been able to get to me. And I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Jacey threw her arms tight around Rhys’s waist, tears in her eyes. 

“God,” she said pulling back and dabbing at her eyes. “We had one really traumatic experience together. I don’t see this as a reason for us to get all buddy-buddy on each other.”

“Then you see wrong,” Rhys responded, knowing it would make Jacey smile. She felt herself spiraling again, not into sadness or anger, but something much worse; nothing. She felt dead inside, smiling as Jacey led her into the house. Forever trapped in a world of fake smiles.


End file.
